


A Thousand Times

by JACKoatACEon



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, College Jensen Ackles, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Spring Fling, Young Jensen Ackles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:50:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1400350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JACKoatACEon/pseuds/JACKoatACEon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff is a relatively successful writer who moved to an upper east coast town to finish his final draft of his latest novel. Jensen is in college on a spring break trip to visit museums and historical sites for extra credit (since he's totally failing his class). As fate would have it, the two meet and spend most of the week together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Couple of things: Writing real people "in character" is hard since I don't know exactly what Jeff & Jensen are like in real life. Obviously this is just fiction and for fun, etc, etc. Jensen is 21 in this which would make JDM 33, I think. OK, enjoy ^_^ 
> 
> Oh, PS, the title & inspiration came from the Lee Brice/Kenny Chesney song "Seven Days"

It had been raining for four straight days and it was enough to drive any sane man over the edge. Jeff was well beyond sane at that point; the deadline for his latest novel hung over his head like a guillotine. He’s notorious for turning his work in at the last minute — a habit he’d managed to cling on to since childhood — and his agent was always stressing over it. Jeff was worried he was going to give the poor guy ulcers.

On Saturday in mid April, the rain had finally let up. The weather woman warned the residents of the upper east coast town to not make any outdoor plans for the rain was going to come back in full force later on that evening. As depressing as the bleak future of the weather sounded, Jeff decided he was going to take full advantage of the momentary lapse in downpour and head down to the beach.

His little home sat on the beach in a long line of other similar houses. The beach was public which was sometimes a pain in the summer, but it was still nice to be just a walk away from the water. The high tide stayed well away from his back porch, and there hasn’t been a hurricane strong enough to tear the house down since he’s lived there. Knock on wood.

The beach was abandoned save for a few of Jeff’s neighbors out getting a run in. There was a kid, probably early twenties, down knee deep in the ocean with the wind blowing right into his face. Although he was just looking at the back of the stranger’s head, Jeff didn’t readily recognize him which was out of the ordinary for how close knit the town was. 

“That can’t be enjoyable,” Jeff said as he approached the kid with his hands in the pockets of his khaki beach pants that made him look more like a tourist than a local.

The kid looked back at Jeff, eyes squinting presumably from the salty spray coming in off the water due to the wind. “I’ve never seen the ocean before, so I figured I’d come down since it stopped raining.” 

“It’s not all that special, huh?” 

“I like it,” the kid said with a bit of a shrug. He walked back out of the water and onto the sand. His flip-flops were in his hand and his jeans were rolled up to his knees. 

The air had changed and there was a feel in the wind that blew in that gave the warning that a storm was getting ready to open up. Jeff looked up, the sky was covered in menacingly dark clouds. 

“The rain’s gonna pick back up. I wouldn’t wanna be caught out here if I were you.” 

“Hopefully it holds out until I get back to the hotel,” the kid shrugged and looked up into the sky.

Jeff frowned. “The one in town? That’s at least a fifteen minute walk and—” 

Thunder snapped and both men flinched, and as if the thunder had opened up some door in the sky, it began to pour. There were no sprinkles or steady increase, it was just full on downpour. 

“My house is right over there,” Jeff pointed back to the white house and yelled through the rain. 

The kid followed him without so much as a second thought, and they jogged up the beach and in through the back door, both shaking like dogs in the kitchen once they were inside. The rain beating down on the house was brutal the wind was whistling past the windows. It was almost eerie. 

“Thanks. Yeah, that would have sucked walking back into town with it raining like that,” the kid said as he took a seat at the small kitchen table.

“It happened to me enough when I first moved here that I became a pro at knowing when it’s going to rain,” Jeff leaned in to the fridge and pulled out a couple beers, “I’m Jeff by the way.”

“Jensen.” 

Jeff slid a beer towards Jensen and popped the top off of one for himself. “So, what brings you here?”

“Spring break,” Jensen nodded, “my friends are kind of history buffs so they’ve been driving along the coast seeing the sights. This is the cheapest hotel we could find, so it’s kind of our home base.” 

Jeff grimaced and gulped down some beer. “That sounds awful, actually.”

Jensen shrugged. “Yeah, well, it could be worse.” 

“Shouldn’t college kids be in, I don’t know, Miami or something?” Jeff said with a cocked eyebrow.

“I did that my freshman and sophomore year. I figured that I’d try something different this time around. I’ve seen some pretty cool stuff so I guess it ain’t all bad.” Jensen was full of shrugs and seemed to just go with the flow. 

“What’s your major?”

Jensen sighed. “Business.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that.” 

“Well, if it wasn’t so late I’d change it. I don’t see myself as a business guy.” Jensen was studying his beer as he spun it around on the scratched-up and coffee ring stained surface of the table. 

“What _do_ you want to do then?” 

A little chuckle left Jensen. “Good question.” 

“So what do you do?” Jensen asked as Jeff came back to the table from pitching his empty bottle into the trash.

“I’m a writer.”

“Is that a good job?”

“Only if you’re lucky,” Jeff chuckled. 

“Are you lucky?” Jensen asked with a crooked grin and a cocked eyebrow.

“Lucky enough, I guess. I got a couple books out and one on the way.” 

“Anything I woulda read?”

“Probably not,” Jeff shook his head.

Jensen wrinkled up his nose. “Think I don’t read?”

“I didn’t say that.” 

Their little episode of banter was amusing, and they both started laughing at the same time. Jensen finished off his beer and denied a second when Jeff offered, saying that he ought to head back to the hotel soon and the rain had finally lightened up. They said their goodbyes, and Jensen thanked Jeff for giving him shelter during that crazy rain. 

Jeff walked back to the guest-room-turned-office where a bulky typewriter sat on a white writing desk. A day-old cup of coffee sat half finished on top of the first draft of Jeff’s novel; a brown coffee ring stain encompassed the first word and half of the second word in the title. 

He edited and typed until he couldn’t anymore. His eyes hurt and his brain was shooting blanks on the next corrections he needed to make. At 11:34, he collapsed onto his bed with the big down comforter and fell into a deep and well needed sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunday greeted Jeff with the sound of steady rain against his bedroom window. Little natural light came into the room making it seem like it was just before dawn, but the digital clock glowed green numbers that read: 12:03.

“Fuck,” Jeff said sleepily and rubbed his eyes. It was a rarity for him to sleep past eight AM, let alone noon. 

He rolled out of bed, leaving it unmade, and threw on a pair of black Baltimore Orioles sweatpants and a threadbare henley he’d washed and worn so much that it had turned from royal blue to powder blue. 

The Sunday paper was read, as usual, as he leaned against the counter in the kitchen looking out of the window with the choppy ocean and rain as a backdrop. His coffee, black, rested on the windowsill.

Jeff sat at the typewriter but didn’t have the motivation to work on his book quite yet. He hated this weather, it killed his morale and his will to do absolutely anything productive. He knew he could easily binge-watch a whole season of the X-Files on Netflix, but he knew he’d never be able to quit. So he drank more coffee and sat at the desk until he finally got the drive to get to work.

After working up an appetite around dinner, Jeff showered and put on something a little more presentable for social interaction than those ratty sweatpants. 

It was raining still. Big surprise. The thud of rain made the cab of his truck sound like a drum. The roads were mostly clear save for those who were just getting off of work. Everyone else was cozy in their houses eating soup and watching 90s sitcom reruns, or whatever they did.

Just about a block from the restaurant, Jeff spotted someone walking along the street. The person had a grey hoodie on underneath a brown leather jacket and their hands were shoved into their pockets. Despite the rain, it wasn’t particularly cold out but what dumbass likes to walk in the rain?

Jeff was in the middle of mentally making fun of this stranger when he noticed that it was Jensen from yesterday. Pulling over ahead of Jensen, Jeff leaned out his open window and yelled for him to hop in. 

“You’re gonna catch...pneumonia or something walking around out there in the rain all the time. ‘s kinda dumb, actually,” Jeff said as Jensen climbed in.

“Well I got a strong immune system. I can handle it,” Jensen boasted. 

Jeff just chuckled. As he pulled into the restaurant, Sammy’s, he realized he now had company.

“So, uh, I was gonna grab a bite to eat. Wanna join me? Or should I drop you off wherever you were going?” 

Jensen eyed the front of the restaurant. “This place good?” He answered his own question, “I assume so since it’s packed.”

“It’s a seafood place,” Jeff said, turning a bit in the driver’s seat to look at Jensen. “You like seafood?” 

Jensen shrugged. His jaw was slacked as he stared at the front of the restaurant. “Yeah, sure.” 

They shot the breeze while their food came, and remained silent as hunger took over them and shoveled food into their mouths.

“I totally pegged you wrong,” Jeff said in between bites of shrimp.

“How’s that?” Jensen asked, snapping a crab leg in half.

“You totally look like the partier kid. Ya know, out every weekend getting hammered, skipping class, that good stuff.” 

Jensen looked down at his plate and laughed. “Well, ya know how I said my friends were on this trip?”

“Yeah…”

“I lied. See, my real friends are down in Florida probably doing body shots off of a sorority girl right now. I had to go on this trip for extra credit. I’m failing one of my gen ed classes.”

Jeff shook his head, a little smile on his face. “Now that I can believe. Let me guess, you’re redeeming yourself by going to all the museums and sites, right?”

Jensen cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he chuckled, “yeah fuckin’ right. I was on my way to the store to buy some beer for the night. All the other guys are driving all night to go see some historical civil war battle ground in the morning.”

“Sounds exciting,” Jeff said sarcastically.

He and Jensen both laughed until the laughter faded out into an almost awkward lull in the conversation. They had finished their food and were awaiting the check. Jeff was wrestling in his mind with the idea of inviting Jensen over for the night. He shouldn’t have to drink alone, right? And Lord knows Jeff wasn’t going back to the house to work on that novel of his.

“You can come back to my place if you don’t feel like drinking alone tonight. I mean, not that two people is much of a party, but, ya know,” Jeff threw finally threw out. 

Jensen’s eyes lit up for a moment. “Yeah, man, sure.” 

“All right,” Jeff nodded, happy with himself. “You need to swing by your hotel and pick up anything or what?”

“Nah, it’s good.” 

*

At eleven PM, they were already tired and happily drunk. Jeff was sunk into a decrepit brown leather recliner that had been sitting in his parents’ basement all his life. It was his first piece of furniture he put in this house. Jensen was splayed out belly-down on the tan sectional. 

“Hey, wanna go out onto the porch?” Jensen asked out of the blue. His voice was muffled by the cushion of the couch he had his face pressed into.

Jeff lolled his head over to look at him. “It’s raining.”

Jensen propped his head up with his hand and rolled onto his side. “The porch has a roof.”

“Yeah, but…” Well, no argument there. But Jeff was comfortable and drunk and tired, and he wasn’t even confident he could stand without falling.

“Come o-on,” Jensen drawled, whining like a baby.

“I’m perfectly comfortable here.” 

Jensen rolled himself off of the couch and stood in front of the chair. He patted the sides of Jeff’s knees and nagged him some more. “Come on, old man.” 

Jeff sighed and his hesitation was enough of a yes for Jensen. Jensen grabbed Jeff’s hands and began to attempt to pull him out of the chair. Jensen’s hands weren’t smooth, but they weren’t rough either; a perfect combination of the two. And it went without mentioning that Jeff liked the way they fit in his own.

Jeff eventually complied to Jensen’s tugging and stood up. With Jensen pulling at him and his wobbly drunk legs, Jeff pitched forward a bit. 

Jensen let Jeff lean into him for a moment if only because his reaction time was a little impaired from all the beer. “Whoa there, partner,” Jensen chuckled and gave Jeff a little push back onto his feet.

They made it out to porch—not without plenty of fumbling steps—and stood out in the cool, damp air. Despite the roof above the porch, the rain had and was still getting through. Jensen and Jeff leaned against the railing anyway, white paint peeling away revealing dark wood underneath their resting arms. Jeff made a mental note—that he surely would forget in the morning—to repaint the porch.

It was dark, but they were still able to make out the rolling waves through the mist of the rain. It wasn’t storming anymore, just a gentle and steady downpour. 

“You have’ta love living here,” Jensen said. His words slurring but full of wonderment at the scene before them. 

“It has it’s moments,” Jeff said frankly. He actually couldn’t remember the last time he stood out here at night or anytime of the day for that matter. “Let’s go back in,” Jeff said, taking a few steps towards the door. 

“We just got out here.”

“We’ll sit out here tomorrow. You can’t even see anything; it’s dark.” Jeff reached out to grab Jensen’s arm to coax him in, but with the dark and with the beer he’d managed to grab Jensen’s hand instead. Much to Jeff’s surprise, Jensen didn’t jerk away.

“OK, _fine_ ,” Jensen gave in, a slight chuckled laced his words. 

Jeff pulled Jensen along and Jensen allowed himself to be pulled until they got inside. Jeff, starting to sober up, cleaned up all the empty beer bottles that had been scattered around the kitchen and living room. 

Jensen, completely useless at this point, returned to the couch, and Jeff could imagine him doing the same kind of position on some dirty frat couch back at his college; sleeping through classes, smelling like booze every weekend. Jeff blinked and picked up the trash bag; he’d been staring.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Jeff rose early but let Jensen sleep in all curled up on the couch and snoring. At about noon while he was plugging away at his typewriter, he heard the back door open and close, and it didn’t open again. 

Mondays. Hangovers. They are enemies, and Jeff had to work through a splitting headache and a general feeling of horribleness but he did catch up on his writing. The deadline was nearing, but for the first time in a while Jeff was welcoming it. He was confident.

He hadn't thought much about Jensen or the night before, but he laughed when he spotted an empty beer bottle on the kitchen counter when he finally emerged from his writing room. “One for the road, Jensen?” he asked aloud with a smile. 

The weather was about the same, except that the weather station called for a let up in the rain on Tuesday afternoon and night. An honest to God let up, too, not just a light misting or a sprinkle. They said the clouds might even part a bit, but Jeff knew that was pushing it. 

That Monday was relatively monotonous, as were all of Jeff’s Monday’s since he’d harbored himself on the coast. He went out to the grocery store and picked up a week’s supply, said hi to the quirky cashier, Misha, and headed on home to put in some extra hours on the typewriter.

*

The boardwalk park was no major attraction, nothing that people come from all over the country to visit, but it was fun for the bored teenagers and adults that had nothing better to do but waste money on fried food and rigged games. That’s where Jeff found himself early Tuesday evening. 

Bright lights were already flashing on all of the rides and the stands because the clouds had made everything darker earlier (the weather people were wrong about the clouds parting, as it turned out).

It was a small beach town, but the first clear night it almost a week had turned the boardwalk into a crowded place. No one knew when the next clear day would come around, so they were taking full advantage of it.

“Hi,” Jeff greeted his neighbors that he’d met and got acquainted with. He’d been there for about a year while working on his novel (he’d been in a bit of a slump), but he still felt like the new guy. 

After wasting away a few bucks on greasy french fries, Jeff decided to waste away a few more on a game. He chose to go old school with the stacked up milk bottles and a ratty baseball. Anyone over the age of sixteen was competent enough to know that these were rigged, but that didn't mean they weren't fun.

Five bucks for three baseballs, and he’d already botched the first two. He wound up on the third and final ball and sent it screaming into the stacked bottles. They toppled off the red stand and Jeff did a celebratory fist pump.

“Wow, what an arm, huh?” called some spectator standing behind Jeff.

Jeff spun around and, of course, out of everyone in town, it had to be Jensen standing there with a wicked smirk on his face. He was wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, jeans, and he had a day’s worth of stubble on his face. 

The lights of the park lit Jensen’s green eyes up like Jeff had never seen before. He was staring again.

“Got lucky on that one,” Jeff said, walking up to meet Jensen. “Where’s your friends?”

“They’re around here somewhere,” Jensen shrugged. “Like I said, I kinda had to come up here with them. We don’t really have much in common.”

“Bunch’a nerds, huh?” Jeff raised and eyebrow and laughed.

“No, no,” Jensen shook his head, laughing, “they’re alright. Not my crowd, but alright.”

They walked and talked; Jeff wasn't much for riding the rides and Jensen said he’d already ate too much and didn't want to puke. With the last few bucks that Jeff had allotted himself he bought a bag of salt water taffy, and he and Jensen found a bench facing the beach to sit on. 

The night was cool and a gentle breeze was blowing in off of the water. They split the bag of taffy though Jensen definitely took the lion’s share popping at least three in his mouth at one point. Jeff threw his head back and laughed because Jensen looked like “a fuckin’ squirrel.” 

Jensen pulled out a flask of whiskey and they both took long pulls from it until they were both feeling light and good. They ate the last two pieces of taffy on the go as they left the boardwalk and headed for the sand.

Lights and sounds of the park gave way to the soft rolling of the waves. Jensen couldn't stop giggling and knocking into Jeff. Jeff was laughing too though he didn't exactly know why. Then Jensen tripped and that was the point where when Jensen was retelling the story of that night to his friends back at school, he’d start to make things up. There was no way he’d tell them what really happened.

In the midst of falling to the sand, Jensen managed to yank Jeff down with them. They were buzzed and laughing so hard that they had tears in their eyes. They rolled onto their backs and looked up at the sky though with the clouds there wasn't much to look at. 

Then, like they had been communicating telepathically, they both looked over at each other. There were no stars in the sky, but there were stars in Jensen’s eyes. Jeff remembered thinking that, and he was tempted to put that line in his new story some months later but laughed because it was so cliche and cheesy. 

“Nice night, huh,” Jensen said. His voice deep but barely above a whisper. His breath smelled like whiskey and candy.

“Yeah,” Jeff nodded. 

Jensen pulled out his flask again and they took long drinks to keep the buzz going. Jeff was just laying there with this hands behind his head when Jensen propped himself up on his elbows and made eye contact with Jeff right before crashing their lips together. Jeff had never been more startled in his life, but he sank into it, removing one hand from the back of his head to place it at the base of Jensen’s neck. 

Even now when he thinks back to that Tuesday night Jeff can still taste the taffy. Orange with a few pieces of Jeff’s favorite vanilla that Jensen had managed to sneak out of the bag.


	4. Chapter 4

Sadly, Jensen had to go back to the hotel that night. Jeff could fallen asleep with him on the beach there; even better, Jensen could have came home with him and slept in his bed, but on Wednesday Jensen’s group was heading out to a museum and Jensen said he had to at least go to something on this trip or he’d actually feel bad.

So early Wednesday morning, Jeff found himself climbing through the window in Jensen’s bedroom at the hotel. Luckily the room he shared with his classmate was on the ground floor. One wall separated Jensen’s bed from the other guy’s, but he and Jensen weren't making much noise anyhow.

“Told ya I’d leave the window open,” Jensen whispered sleepily.

“I haven’t snuck through a window since high school,” Jeff chuckled. 

Jeff stripped down to his boxers and slid into Jensen’s bed. They almost fell back asleep—the cool breeze coming through the window and the sound of light rain was incredibly calming—but they kept each other up with kisses. Kisses to the lips, the neck, the stomach… 

Jensen was nearly on top of Jeff sucking at the skin on his collar bone. Jeff was sighing heavily, running his fingers up and down Jensen’s spine. Jeff wanted to be there all morning, wanted to be lazy and love each other slowly because that’s what you do when the weather’s like this. But Jensen looked over at his clock and then sadly back at Jeff and Jeff knew that their time was up for that morning.

They parted ways and Jeff went back to working on his book. There was an email from his agent asking him how the final draft was coming along. The email was nice and casual, but Jeff knew that the guy was probably sweating, hoping that Jeff would get the draft in on time so the publishers wouldn't have a fit. 

“Shit rolls downhill, Jeff,” his agent would say, but they both know that it always just rolled right to the agent, never to Jeff. 

Jeff took a break in the evening to watch a Rocky movie marathon on TV, but fell asleep ten minutes before the end of Rocky and woke up to Rocky III just starting. At that moment, he heard a knocking on the back door.

“Hey, how was your little trip?” Jeff greeted as Jensen stepped through the open door into the kitchen. 

Jensen immediately went for the fridge. “Drive was long, but the museum was...I mean, it was alright.” 

Jeff cracked a smile and leaned his back on the counter. “Don’t wanna admit you had fun?”

Jensen shot him a look and took a few swigs from a can of Coke. “I said it was _alright_.” 

By the end of Rocky IV they were tired and both could hardly keep their eyes open. Jeff didn't particularly plan on sleeping on the couch all night, so he stood up, turned the TV off, and headed back towards his room. He hoped Jensen would follow.

And he did. Jensen plodded along behind Jeff, stripping down to his underwear when he got inside the door. Jeff got under the covers first with Jensen crawling in quickly behind him. 

Jeff pulled the sleepy Jensen close and kissed his neck. Jensen threaded his fingers through Jeff’s hair while his other hand rested at the small of Jeff’s back. Jeff’s hand dipped below Jensen’s waistband, and Jensen rose his hips off of the bed, needy grunts escaping his mouth which Jeff silenced with a long kiss. 

They awoke on Thursday morning tangled in the white sheets, tangled in each other, and smelling like heat and passion from the night before. Shirts, pants, and underwear decorated the wood floor around the bed. Jeff was laying on his stomach, face smashed into the pillow. Jensen was the first to wake up, straddling Jeff and placing kisses down the length of his back. 

“Good morning,” Jeff said with a smile and a happy groan as he felt Jensen on top of him. 

Jensen kissed the back of Jeff’s head and combed through Jeff’s hair with his fingers. “Mmhmm,” Jensen hummed, kissing at Jeff’s neck.

“I need a haircut,” Jeff said. His voice still coated with the croak of sleepiness. 

“No,” Jensen ran his fingers through it again, “I like it.” 

They spent the whole Thursday together. When they finally got out of bed they went and caught a movie and some dinner afterwards. Back at the house they talked for hours. Jensen told Jeff all of his hopes and dreams. 

He liked to sing and play guitar, but he didn't think he was good enough to make anything of himself in the music business. He thought that maybe running a business wouldn’t be so bad if it allowed him travel; then he went into detail about all of the places he’d want to see. 

Jeff told Jensen about failed relationships and about all of the things that only a man twelve years older than him could know. He told Jensen some stuff he’d never told anyone else before all while they sat on the metal chairs on the back porch and watched the stars appear through the breaks in the dark rain clouds. They could have talked until the sun came up.


	5. Chapter 5

Jensen had to go again. At the last minute, one of his classmates on the trip had suggested they check out the Naval Academy museum for their last day on the coast, and even though Jensen tried not to display it, Jeff knew that he was excited to go.

“Friday’s our last full day’n all…” Jensen mumbled. 

Jeff was trying not to think about that. “Go,” he smiled—forced it, really. “You’ll have fun.”

Jensen nodded and left Jeff’s house that Thursday night. They both knew the drive tomorrow was going to be a long one and that their last day together would be cut short by Jensen’s trip, but Jeff didn’t want to be selfish. 

On Friday, it rained the hardest it ever had in the past three days. Jeff could barely see out his windows through the rain and mist. It was good for his work though because he got himself to the home stretch of his final draft. He worked all day and didn't realize how dark it got. He worked right through lunch and dinner.

Jeff didn't even hear the back door open, didn't even know anyone was in the house until he felt strong arms wrap around his neck. Jeff closed his eyes and leaned his head back into Jensen. He pulled off his glasses, rubbed his eyes and yawned.

“Been workin’ all day?” Jensen asked though he knew the answer.

“I need a drink,” Jeff said. It came out more like a sigh than anything.

Jensen figured that Jeff probably meant the whiskey in the cabinet, but instead he came back with a glass of water. Walking back into the writing room, Jeff was just how Jensen left him: head back, eyes closed.

“Here, this is healthier,” Jensen handed him the glass.

Jeff frowned at the water but drank it anyway. It hit the spot more than the whiskey would have. OK, maybe that was a stretch. Still, Jeff couldn't get himself out of the melancholy mood he was in. Sure, Jensen was here now but in so many hours it would be Saturday morning and he’d be piling into a car and heading back to school. 

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Jeff asked. 

They were in bed at that point. They put the topic off long enough to get lost in each other for awhile, but now they were calmed and cooled down. The room was quiet except for soft breathing and the occasional kiss, but it had been thick with the tension of knowing that this had to be talked about.

“Six,” Jensen said. “There’s some big party back at school tomorrow night that we wanna try to get to. Frat guys’re throwing it, I don’t know.” 

He said it so throwaway-casually, but Jeff could tell Jensen was just putting him on. Of course he was excited to get to school for a huge back-from-spring-break party. He would get hammered that night and forget the Jeff ever existed.

“That’s in five hours. You should probably go back and get some sleep.” 

“I’m not driving. I can sleep in the car on the way.” Jensen adjusted his position so his head was resting in the crook of Jeff’s neck.

“Did you pack?”

“Yes, dad.” 

They both shared a laugh at that. Jeff pulled Jensen in as close as possible; he was unable to get enough of this kid. He wanted one more night and one more morning that they can waste away being lazy together. One more morning where they wake up sore, covered in little bruises and scratches—wonderful reminders of each other. 

After another moment of silence, Jensen spoke. “I don’t want to go back.”

“You have to.”

“I can drop out.”

“I’d kill you. You’re not dropping out.” Jeff tilted his head to look down at Jensen but the room was too dark to see much.

Jensen knew that he couldn't drop out and Jeff knew he wasn't serious when he said it. “Now what?”

“We could sleep,” Jeff said. That’s what he intended to do because he was exhausted and Jensen was warm and made him reach a whole new level of comfort.

“No, I mean,” Jensen sat up and Jeff could tell he was looking at him though he could only see a rough shape in the dark, “where do we go from here?” 

Jeff sighed. “You go back to school, I finish my book and go back to New York.”

“Will you be here in the summer?” 

“Probably not.”

That answer didn't seem to sit well with Jensen. He dropped back to the bed but spaced himself from Jeff. Jeff rolled his eyes.

“What? Are you pouting?”

“No. It’s just... _man_ , why can’t good things ever work out, ya know?” 

Jeff hooked his arm around Jensen’s waist and pulled him back close. He put his chin on Jensen’s shoulder and nuzzled his face into Jensen’s cheek, kissing down his jaw until Jensen finally turned his head and met Jeff’s lips with his own. 

At a little after five in the morning, Jeff drove Jensen back to the hotel. The car ride over was silent and sad, and Jensen just watched the rain roll down the windows the whole way. 

Jeff put the truck in park in the lot behind the hotel but left it running. The sound of the wipers going back and forth sounded loud between the two. Jeff looked over at Jensen and Jensen was just staring down at the floor boards. They both knew they needed to say something, anything.

“So, this is it, huh?” Jeff was the first to speak.

“Yep,” Jensen nodded.

“You have my number. You know that.” 

Jensen laughed suddenly. “Yeah, what? We can say that we’ll call or whatever but that’ll last what, a week? A few days?”

“Jen—”

“Let’s not sugarcoat what this was. It was a fling, simple as that.” 

Jensen sounded angry, but Jeff knew it was more sadness than anything. He looked and even sounded hurt; the anger was just a mask for it all. The kid had too much pride to show that he was upset.

“Alright, alright,” Jeff nodded. “Well, you better get going then. Your friends are probably up by now.”

“Yeah.”

Jeff reached out and put a hand on the back of Jensen’s neck and pulled him in. Jensen folded under Jeff’s embrace, dropping that machismo he’d spent so much time building up.

“Ah, shit,” Jensen mumbled through the tears that Jeff could feel soaking through the sleeve of his t-shirt. Jeff just rubbed Jensen’s back and kept Jensen on his shoulder long enough to wipe away any trace of his own tears.

And of course, like the ending to any good story, they shared one last, long kiss. The last time Jeff saw Jensen he was waving back to him from the doorway of his hotel room. 

Jeff had stayed up long hours of the night reliving that week with Jensen. He’d probably done it a thousand times, and he’d do it a thousand more times. 

He finished his book and got it published, and he hung around that town until late June. He got in a couple of good weeks of surfing and spent two nights with a woman named Sarah, a kindergarten teacher from Indiana who was in town to visit family.

They had a great couple of nights together. Wild nights. Jeff could tell she had months of pent up wildness from having to conduct herself professionally in a classroom of crazy, young children. Jeff let her release that all onto him, and he had finally crawled out of the deep rut he’d dug himself into since Jensen left—if only for a couple of nights.

They bar hopped and skinny dipped in her aunt’s pool after her family had all gone to bed. They didn't get any sleep during those two days, and Jeff didn't mind one bit. But it wasn't too hard to say goodbye to her when she had to go. 

Jensen had called three times in the span of months that Jeff stayed on the coast, but Jeff never called him back. He had to go back to New York; he had to write another book. Jeff knew he’d be dealing himself out thin in the next few years. If he couldn't give Jensen the commitment he deserved then Jeff would spare the kid the let down, and that was that. He thought that Jensen was better off. He’d swear to that a thousand times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did y'all think? I've been tossing around the idea of a part deuce, and I've even worked out some outlines for it but I'm not sure if I should go for a sequel. So I'll have you decide: part 2 or leave it as is?


End file.
